Something Has Just Begun
by Onyxlight
Summary: A series of drabbles from the POV of Jean Havoc as he keeps his ever watchful eyes on Edward Elric. Warning hints of yaoi.
1. Something Has Just Begun

**Disclaimer**: I make no profit so no reason to sue

* * *

I watch you.

How can anyone, not watch you?

You swagger into the office with a golden aura and all smiles.

You stop at Hawkeye's desk, which is across from mine. That lithe frame of yours bends over to look at some paper on her desk and your backside paints a portrait worthy of any museum wall. She says something and you rub your chin in thought. A wicked grin slides across that gorgeous mouth and you respond with something that makes her smile. You take one of the papers from her, breeze by my desk and head straight to his office.

Breda stops you mere steps away, pulls you to his desk and starts to discuss strategy with you. I'm so busy watching you I don't realize I'm being watched myself. When the feel of eyes upon me does finally creep up my spine, I look up to see blue-black eyes boring into me. An all too knowing smile is on his face and if I had a little less pride, I would have ducked my head in shame. As it stands, I know his eyes have strayed to the same golden sea and leather clad thighs, so a stare down it is.

Never breaking eye contact with me he calls your name, your _actual _name, not your title and you respond without so much as a harsh word. I feel my eyes go wide when a white gloved hand with a crimson symbol on it settles on your shoulder, lingering longer than what could ever be necessary. Just when I think you are used to that touch a strange look crosses your face, and you glare at Roy before marching into his office mumbling about weird old men.

This takes a bit of the wind out of the Chiefs sails but he holds his head high and with an arrogant look meant for no one but me, he closes the door.

With the sound of that click, I can't help but feel something has just begun.


	2. Something Has Just Begun: The Cafe

**Disclaimer**: I make no profit therefore, if you sue me, you will gain nada

* * *

I'm sitting at a small outdoor café on a Saturday afternoon when a flash of red catches my attention.

I look up from my sandwich and see you across the street from me at a similar eatery taking your coat off.

You're all fluid grace and cocky bravado.

You are alone when you arrive but that doesn't last long and I'm not surprised. A bashful looking young woman approaches you and looks to be asking you a question. You reply, but she gives you a puzzled look so you stand up, point towards Central city's clock tower and start talking again. She's shaking her head and your gestures grow broad. Soon she's laughing and you smile in response. From what I can gather, she thanks you and shakes your hand before moving on.

You return to your seat to stare at the menu. When the server comes to your table, you order quickly and as soon as she turns her back, you pull a book out of your coat pocket and start to read. I shake my head and try to focus on my own cooling lunch before I'm caught staring. Not that you'd ever figure out why I'm staring, but that fact is beside the point, I don't want to risk it.

Not even ten minutes later I can't help but look up and nothing with you has changed. You are nose deep in your book and you would have remained that way, but your food arrives. You dig in with your normal enthusiasm causing me to smile. Just as I start to turn away, another familiar face shows up. He's standing a few tables away and you don't even notice him.

Good.

He watches you for a few moments before he makes his presence known. He helps himself to a seat while making, what I assume is small talk with you. Even from across the street, I can see those golden eyes narrow at him and I am convinced my gut instinct is right.

You were not expecting him and he is not exactly welcome.

It is obvious to me you came to eat and read. Since Al is not with you, I'm assuming you wanted to do those two things alone. My appetite is gone so I pile my food on a tray, weave through the tables and dump the cold stuff in the garbage.

With one last glance across the street, I see him tapping on the book that's now face down on your table. He's up to something and I have a damn good idea what that something is.


	3. Something Has Just Begun: The Storeroom

**Title**: Something Has Begun: The Storeroom  
**Author**: Lynx212  
**Fandom**: FMA  
**Characters**: Havoc, Ed, Roy  
**Rating**: Adult  
**Word Count**: 802  
**Disclaimer**: I make no profit therefore, if you sue me, you will gain nada  
**A/N**: This is from Havoc's POV ^_^ Enjoy!

* * *

Here you are again all sunshine mixed with attitude, leaned on Riza's desk as the two of you talk about reorganizing the office. Your hair is down in a low, loose ponytail with your trademark jacket draped over your shoulder, hooked on a finger. She is looking rather serious as she points to a piece of paper in her hand. You lean over squint your eyes and nod in the affirmative. Her face relaxes and you move on to sit behind your own desk.

I watch as you read, stamp, sign and file whatever it is you do here when you are not out in the field. With your one true goal now accomplished, your pace has slowed to a tempo the rest of us can keep up with. With seven documents completed, you put your pen down, stretch and roll your neck.

It must be hell for someone with your energy to sit still for so long.

A creak catches everyone's attention as he steps out of his office and walks over to Kain asking for files and the like. He glances at me for a moment but it's fleeting so I return to my own work. Soon a grumble from Riza has me looking in her direction as she stands and moves toward you. She asks you if you would mind bringing up a box of supplies from the storeroom and tells you what serial number is on the box. You joke about not being a grunt, she smiles as she arches an eyebrow and you breeze out of the office after giving her a mock salute.

He watches you leave and it makes me uneasy.

He closes his conversation with Kain and without a word, out of the office he goes. I long to have a valid reason to leave as well but Riza knows my coffee is full and I had a smoke thirty minutes ago. Then like an answer to an unspoken prayer Riza comes up to me and quietly tells me she thinks the box she sent you after might be out of your reach and she didn't want you resorting to your own special brand of alchemy to get it. She asks me if I would take an unneeded box of old folders down to the storeroom and see how you were making out.

Perfect. Sometimes lady luck does smile on me.

Once I exit the office I nearly run to my destination, only slowing when I get to where I think I might be heard. A few steps into the dimly lit room I hear muffled voices. Edging closer I stop when I can look through the shelf in front of me and see you and, just as I thought, him as well.

You are looking around for the box Riza sent you after and she was right, it's out of reach. He's talking to you but you are focused on the task at hand. Not one to take being ignored lying down, he steps in front of you the moment you find a step stool and asks you what your rush is. You say you're not rushing, just trying to do what Hawkeye asked you to do. Arms, one flesh one metal, fold over your chest as you glower at the man in front of you and ask why he's down here goofing off. You tell him he may not have to worry about Hawkeye but you did. With that said, you move to step around him only to have his white gloved hand grab you by the wrist. Even through my small opening between the shelves, I can see the annoyed look you give him.

That look is enough for me. I'm on the move.

When I round the corner, he releases you and you push your way around him. Obviously frustrated, you ask me if I would grab the box Riza sent you after. I agree so you point to it and leave the storeroom in a huff.

He says nothing to me as I put the old folders in a vacant spot, and then grab the box you were after. He says nothing because he doesn't have too. The look he's giving me says it all.

He knows there's a good chance I saw more than he wanted me to see. I know he's not willing to call himself out if by some chance I did not. The uncertainty is eating away at him and that's fine by me. I'll be damned if I'm going to do or say anything to ease his mind. I did what I came to do and now that I have the box Riza wanted, I give him a two-fingered salute and leave.

Let him stew in his own juices. I know his game now.


	4. SHJB: Raindrops and Beef Stew

**Title**: Raindrops and Beef Stew  
**Author**: Lynx212  
**Fandom**: FMA  
**Characters**: Havoc, Ed, Roy  
**Rating**: Adult  
**Word Count**: 984  
**Disclaimer**: I make no profit so no reason to sue  
**A/N**: This is written from Havoc's POV

* * *

The weekend comes and for once, I don't have any desire to sit and waste the day away. I have too much on my mind to sit in an empty apartment. Golden eyes and flaxen hair has plagued my dreams and unsettled my thoughts. I head out the door with every intention of taking a walk through the park to clear my head, and then back by way of the market to buy stuff for dinner.

The trip through the park does its job and I walk into the market in high spirits whistling as I shop. I'm placing potatoes in my hand basket when your all too familiar tenor reaches my ear. When I look up, I see you in your usual leather pants paired with a blue shirt this time, golden braid draped over your left shoulder. You ask me if that's the only song, I know the tune too. I chuckle and ask you where the question came from. You clear your throat, smirk and say that it's the same one I whistle in the office all the time.

Flattered that you've paid that much attention to me I respond with how I never thought about it. You shake your head, peak into my basket and your eyes grow wide. You say that it looks like I have all the makings for beef stew. When I admit that's exactly what I plan to cook you make a pleased sound and before I can think better of it, my mouth opens and I invite you to have dinner with me.

I don't regret the slip because you agree and say it's one of your favorite things to eat. Knowing your appetite, I increase the amount of things in my basket. We finish shopping for the stew together before going to the counter to pay.

When we step out of the store, I notice rain clouds overhead and we set off quickly towards my place. Our pace doesn't help because the heavens open up and let loose not two blocks into our journey. Instead of being pissed, as I thought you'd be, you laugh and joke about how we are nothing but a couple of wet military dogs.

We laugh and trudge through the rain, neither of us rushing because we are as soaked as we're going to get. All was well until the sound of a slowing car came from behind us. I don't even have to look to know who it is.

I was Fate's bitch that way.

When we don't acknowledge the car or its driver the light honking of a horn did the trick. Neither of us could ignore that. You seem honestly shocked that someone is honking at us, me I'm just on guard. The car crept up until it was beside us and _he_ rolls his window down just far enough to allow his voice words to escape.

_The Chief afraid of a little rain? Imagine that… _

I hear him offer you a ride to wherever you are going and I would bet my last dime your response of my place makes his jaw drop. If that didn't do the trick, then you interpreting that as him offering us both a ride surely does. You climb in the back seat leaving me to choose between sitting in the back beside you or beside him…no contest there.

He says little as he drives toward my apartment but every few moments he glances in the rearview mirror and all the words in the world flash in those midnight blue eyes.

_Such language_.

Oh, there would be hell to pay for this at some point but until such time I see it as three points to the underdog.

He let us out , we thank him and are on our way. I know he watches our every move until he can't any longer and the smile on my face is as wide as it can get.

When we enter the warm confines of my humble abode just how soaked we are becomes hard to ignore. You laugh and say you feel like a bum coming for dinner then asking for a towel and a shirt too. I assure you it is no bother and when you peel that soaked blue fabric away from your body and over your head it really became no bother at all…a treat to be honest.

Something in my mind whispers the word perfection and I am inclined to agree.

I watch you dry off and change shirts before I disappear through the house to do the same. When I return I see you have already found some of the things we need to make dinner and are busy chopping vegetables. Conversation between us is light and easy in a way I didn't expect but enjoy just the same.

As we eat, you tell me Al is off with a research group and you will be alone for the next week or so. This explains the younger brother's lack of presence in the office, or anywhere for that matter. I tell you my door is always open, you smirk after sending a sincere thanks in my direction. You two have been inseparable for as long as I've known you.

I can only imagine how odd being alone must feel.

The torrential downpour continues outside and so flows our conversation inside until we are both yawning. With the rain showing no signs of stopping I go down the hall and bring back a pair of my old PT pants, a blanket and a pillow.

You look at me curiously and I say you are free to walk in that down pour if you want or you can just crash on the couch. You laugh take the offered items saying warm couch trumps cold rain any day.

I sleep well and dream even better…my life has just gotten way more interesting.


	5. SHJB: Morning

Something Has Just Begun: **Morning**

* * *

The sun has just come up and I can't recall the last time I slept as well as I did last night. Yesterday was grand and as I exit my bedroom, I can't help but have high hopes for today as well. When my eyes fall on your sleeping form on my couch I smile.

Sprawled out on your stomach and relaxed in a way that says you are sleeping well too. Your breathing is steady and deep and every now and then, there is a hint of a snore that passes those parted lips. Your flaxen hair is fanned out all over the arm of the couch as well as the pillow your head is resting on. Automail arm tucked under the pillow and you other arm hanging down, fingertips of a lax hand close to the floor. The sun is making your already golden appearance even more striking and I think I could stand here watching you sleep forever.

You stir and I move through the room to start the coffee. I'm not sure what you prefer to drink in the morning but I'm placing my bets on something with caffeine. I'm leaning on the counter watching the peculator do its thing when I hear your mismatched steps shuffle through the house probably towards the bathroom.

When you appear in the doorway to the kitchen with a groggy good morning I have to smile. Hair mussed, shirt crumpled, face still holding on to those last vestiges of sleep and you still manage to look perfect.

I tell you I have coffee brewing, your eyes perk up, and you take a seat on one of the stools at my counter. You offer to cook breakfast and I'm stunned, I can't resist teasing you. You give me a glare that has no true malice behind it and say anyone your age who couldn't manage eggs and toast needed to be shot. I laugh and pour us both a cup of coffee as you start to cook.

We talk about work, music, politics and life in general. You have lived way too much for someone your age and it's moments like this I forget you are only nineteen. We spend our Sunday morning, afternoon and evening this way and it suits me just fine. You make no mention of leaving until nightfall and I offer to walk you to your flat. When we arrive, we say a short goodbye and you disappear behind a wooden door with a brass knocker.

When I return home, I see your discarded shirt from our Saturday walk in the rain on the floor and I pick it up, tossing it in with my other laundry. I'll return it to you when you ask, until then I'm I think I'll just hang onto it.


	6. SHJB: The Street

SHJB: The Street

* * *

Days pass and life ebbs on. It's Thursday, around lunch, when the phone on Riza's desk rings. It's Alphonse for you. You are smiling as you talk to your sibling and it warms my heart. I was never that close to my brother and it reminds me of how long it's been since I've written him. I'll have to do that soon.

Your tone changes causing Riza and me look up at you. The smile on your face is gone even as your words remain chipper. When you hang up, she asks if anything was wrong and you say Al's going to be staying with the research team for an indeterminate amount time as they've been hired to work on some project. My heart goes out to you; I know you'll miss him.

Weeks pass and you seem to be adjusting to the absence of your sibling as well as can be expected. You leave the office early one day and I find myself wondering why. When it comes time for the rest of us to leave, I decide to head towards a café. I'm not in the mood to cook. I leave there after a light dinner to take a sunset stroll. The temperate days will be ending soon so I decide to enjoy them while I can.

A car passes me and the head of blonde hair in the passenger seat doesn't escape my notice. I decide to continue on my course and if I run into them I do, if I don't, I don't.

…but I do, and I don't like what I see, nor what I hear.

First, a car door slams heavily soon followed by another door shut with much more care. Then, two steps of footsteps both moving at a hurried pace. He's asking you to hold on, to wait, but you don't seem interested in doing so at all if the muffled expletives are any indication. When you come darting out of a parking lot and onto the sidewalk, I duck into an alley. When he catches up to you, you whirl on him and I see righteous fury in your eyes. He utters something that I can't make out but under the glow of streetlamps, I can see your face morph from blazing anger to shocked defeat. He asks you to come back to the car with him and you do but even from my hiding place, I can see the reluctance in every step you take.

I stay hidden until the car pulls out and drives off.

I don't like where this game is going.


	7. SHJB: Questions

SHJB: Questions

* * *

You are standing on the steps outside the office looking lost inside that overactive mind of yours when I exit the building. I tap you on the shoulder and ask what's on your mind. Your brow furrows and the expression doesn't suit you well. You say it's nothing but I know better.

I invite you to walk with me; you don't answer you simply fall in step beside me.

As we walk toward the gates of the military complex, I try to engage you in conversation but I get nothing more than one word answers or nods. I ask if your brother is ok and you say yes, quelling that particular fear. I don't have to worry about you tearing through the countryside in search of a lost or wounded Alphonse.

Your automail hand is fiddling with the end of your braid and I know whatever's on your mind is heavy indeed. You don't indulge in that nervous habit too often these days. The air around you is tense and the curiosity and concern is eating at me. I play it cool. I know you will talk when you are ready.

You call my name and when I stop to look at you, confusion is all over that perfect face and in those honey colored eyes of yours. Time for my brow to furrow, this seems serious. You open your mouth to speak and a voice I know all too well calls you by your title.

We look across the courtyard and I see him standing by the guard tower. He has one hand in his jacket pocket and the other at his side clutching a bag. Your posture stiffens and that makes warning bells go off in my mind. We wait for him to speak but that's not what he wants, no… having your attention is not enough. He calls you by your name this time and reluctantly you move toward him. That cocky smirk on his face at the action soon fades when he realizes I'm following you.

You ask him what he wants and he hands you the bag all while never taking his eyes off me. You ask him what it is and he encourages you to open it. I glance down at you as you unfold the top of the paper sack and see it's full of pastries. You give him a questioning look and he says he bought them because you seemed to enjoy them so much when Riza had some in the office last week.

You offer up an awkward thanks and that smirk of his is back along with the look he had in his eyes in the storeroom. He asks you if you'd like a ride home and the lie that gives you an alibi is out of my mouth before I can think better of it. I say you're committed to alchemically altering some of my ratty furniture back into shape.

The relief on your face makes my stomach knot.

He says, _oh I see,_ _another time then_, before he moves on and we do the same. We are two blocks into our journey when you toss the pastries in a garbage can. You stuff your hands in your pockets as you focus on the ground. This whole situation has me on edge. Something tells me the stakes just went up. I'm going to get answers out of you if it kills me.


	8. SHJB: Oncoming Storm

You are sitting on my couch and the silence that surrounds you is killing me. I have offered you food that you have turned down and when you even refused coffee I am speechless. I put on the water for tea thinking if I have a cup maybe you'll join me. Something... anything... has to give before this tension drives me insane.

When you remain in silence I take a risk and ask you if everything is ok. You nod but I sense that even you know I can see right through the lie that response is.

Not to be defeated so easily I ask you if things are ok between you and him and golden eyes narrow but you don't answer. I try to wait patiently but I know I won't last long. I want to know what's bothering you… I need to know. Something has you behaving like a scared rabbit in his presence and I won't stop before I know what it is. I have my suspicions but that alone isn't enough.

If I'm to choke a man, I need a concrete reason to do so.

Suddenly you ask me if I ever get tired of living alone and the question startles me. It's out of place but I'm willing to play along. Anything for you.

Hoping that I'm reading your demeanor and expression correctly I say that I do get lonely at times and your face lights up. You launch into how much you miss Al and not knowing when he's coming home is torture for you. Knowing that your pride is at stake here I tell you that you are more than welcome to bunk with me anytime you want and an invisible weight lifts off your shoulders even as you make sure it won't be any trouble. I assure you it's not and the smile I am use to returns even as the shadows that have found a home in your eyes over the last few weeks remain.

I want to dig deeper but I know now is not the time. As that thought crosses my mind, something in my guts wrenches and my instincts shout that time is not something you may not have a lot of.

You ask me if I'm interested in playing a few hands of poker and I move to go get the cards. You are happily watching me shuffle and all is right with your world. We play until nightfall and you fall asleep on my couch again, but this time it's on and empty stomach and the peaceful expression is nowhere to be seen.

A storm is coming and I just pray I have what it takes to shelter you from the rain.


End file.
